Tenebris awoke to the same cool pink light she had fallen asleep to. The
first sleep after cryo was always heavenly, and this was only exacerbated by
the Parvian between her legs, whose sleeping breaths pleasantly washed over her
clitoris. She yawned, brushed her hair out of her face, and stretched as best
she could in the cramped space.
Looking to connect to the station and plan out her activities, she began
her least favourite part of interfacing with her neural chip; activating it.
The sensation was unusual, like contracting a muscle that didn’t really exist.
It wasn’t the feeling that bothered her, however, but the idea that the chip
was listening into her every thought and movement, and simply waiting for the
correct one to respond to. It was the same reason she used movement and ocular
interactions, rather than direct signal interactions. She was completely aware
of how it really didn’t matter which she chose, the machine was reading her
thoughts all the same either way, but she liked being able to draw a hard line
between her, and her augments.
Nevertheless, she activated the chip, that nonexistent muscle clenching
in the recesses of her mind. Orange flooded her vision, materializing into
space, or rather, materializing into her visual cortex. The menus, with their
blocks of text and data had a unique quality to them, in that they were
translucent. However, this translucence was not in any standard sense of the
word. In her normal vision it was there, solid as stone, but deep within her
mind she could feel that a different, more base part of her mind was looking
right past it, and that it wasn’t there. It was a common effect of neural chips
from her generation. She had heard there were new versions that removed this
affect, but she was a tad repulsed by the idea of being completely unable to
know if what she was looking at was truly real.
She reached out her hands and interacted with the systems. It felt like running
her hands through warm water, where there was the sensation of touching
something, but no hard resistance. She swiped and tapped, connecting to the
station’s data stream. She went for a data pocket tagged with
‘locomotion’.
At the very top was an advert for a new interstellar transport system.
She gleaned over it, honing on to certain key words present on it. Twenty gees.
Seventy-nine percent lightspeed. Extremely lightweight. Needless to
say, she was intrigued by the prospect. She tapped it, the tab unfolding within
her retinas like a flower, the other menus and tabs fading into orange dust,
and disappearing from her imagined view. She picked out phrases like
“antimatter propulsion” and “immersion fluid”. A personal ship, capable of
hitting a whopping seventeen gees of sustained burn without breaking a sweat.
Obviously, with such ludicrous acceleration capability, it had to come with a
state-of-the-art cryo system, or else any poor fool who entered it would be
juiced into the finest of fine mists upon any acceleration. The caveat of the
purchase was that it had piss-poor storage capability, and hardly any features,
but that was the price to be paid for such a powerful machine. Twenty-two
thousand tchokas out her pocket, but for such a fantastic ship, she would have
paid double, given the opportunity.
Tenebris ordered one. The system displayed a message thanking them for
their purchase, an address to report to, and an hour before their ship would be
ready. There was also a liability waver saying the provider was not liable for
any interstellar matter that struck the ship, and any cancers caused by
interstellar radiation, which she signed.
Her thoughts drifted to Martin. She was disappointed that Guyen station
had gotten that delivery, but at the same time she knew she’d probably strike a
better deal at Edo. Regardless, she made a ping on her chip that informed
anyone on the station looking, that she was selling a Parvian, and to approach
her with their offer if they were interested. She looked down at the small lump
in her pants where Martin was. She really did find him quite cute, and she’d be
at least a bit sorry to see him go. At the same time, however, the amount of
money she’d get off him would have her set for life, if she played her cards
right.
Her stomach rumbled. She was getting hungry, and she wagered a guess
that so was her future jackpot. The Parvian Cafe she had heard about earlier
would hopefully do the trick. Seeing another Parvian might also help to improve
Martin’s attitudes.
She awkwardly tied her hair up, the confines of
the area making it difficult at times. Briefly, she wondered whether she should
wake up Martin now, or simply let him stay down there until she got to the
Cafe. Before she could make a decision however, she felt Martin stir, at one
point colliding with her clit, accidentally, causing Tenebris to softly gasp.
Once more, she contracted the nonexistent muscle, turning off her chip
to attend to the squirming in her pants. A part of her was tempted to push him
into her, and make him squirm just enough to get her off, but she pushed aside
the desire as best she could, and went to remove him. She snaked her hand into
her pants, feeling Martin’s nude body against her sensitive lips. The desire to
take control and bring herself to orgasm flared up again, but she stifled it
down once more. Withdrawing him, she soon noticed that she had gotten much more
wet than she had thought. He was completely drenched in juices, making him
slippery to the point it became a tug of war between the tight leggings and her
hands. After some fighting, she finally drew Martin out, leaving a small trail
of liquid on her stomach. She set him down on the mattress beside her.
Tenebris propped her chin up on her elbow. “Had
a good time down there?” He didn’t respond, but as she looked him over, a
certain part of him told her that the answer to that question was yes. She
reached out and tousled his hair with her thumb, which further dishevelled his
already messy hair. “Oh, how you flatter me!” She teased, giving him a wink.
“You can just wipe all that fun stuff off on the mattress.”
Evidently in a half daze, she watched him attempt to rub his eyes, and
quickly realize he was just rubbing more of her juices on his face, rather than
clearing anything off of it. He awkwardly went down to the ground, and did a
sort of log roll to get some of the wetness off him.
Tenebris went digging around in the storage in the corner, and pulled
out a box of wet wipes. Grabbing one, she first swept down her stomach, and
then passed it along to Martin. It seemed a bit cumbersome for him, but he was
clearly able to make it work. Tenebris reclined, putting her hands behind her
head, faced up towards the ceiling.
“Where’re my clothes?” Martin asked, drowsily.
“Sorry, I must’ve kicked them in my sleep. Check near the wall?” She
said, inspecting her fingernails.
“Uhhh… yup, there they are.”
The calming pink lights ran the length of the ceiling, pulsing
rhythmically, sending a dot of white across the filaments. She heard the
rustling of clothes off to her side, and decided to give the Parvian his
privacy, if only just this once.
“Ready?” She asked, once the rustling had stopped.
“As I’ll ever be.” Martin grumbled.
She awkwardly shimmied and pushed her feet off the walls to rotate herself,
so that her head was facing the exit. During the scuffle, she accidentally
bumped him with her hip. She brought herself to the side panel, tapping in the
pin to check out of the motel. The door cracked open, turning outward with a
hiss, the hinge squeaking slightly. A fine mist seeped out, which she assumed
was some sort of sleep-aiding mixture that was included in the package
description that she hadn’t read. Unfolding herself from the area, she found
herself in the I-wing once again. The normal lights came as a shock, Tenebris’
covering her currently sensitive eyes with a hand. Turning back around, she
grabbed a still drowsy Martin off the edge of the platform, and placed him atop
her shoulder, where he clutched the strap of her backpack for support.
They began making their way to the Parvian Cafe. It was back on the
commercial floor, which meant Tenebris had to take a route to one of the
stairways first. She found the style of Guyen Station quite refreshing, the
splashes of colour being a good change of pace from the bland metal corridors
of many other stations. On the way, she talked about the arrangements she had
made to Martin, such as the Cafe they were on their way to, their transport to
Edo, and finally, the sales ping, which he was very apprehensive about, for
obvious reasons.
Shortly after reaching the commercial floor,
Tenebris was approached by a sharply-dressed woman, betrothed in jewelry, such
as a necklace, bracelets, large earrings, and numerous rings. She appeared to
be about middle-aged, the signs of aging worn gracefully. Tenebris assumed she
was of fairly high status, since symbols of age are common among the higher
classes, as they helped to convey wisdom to their peers. The woman locked her
eyes on the Parvian atop Tenebris’ shoulder. “Is that him?”
Tenebris could feel Martin’s hesitation in the way he gripped her
shoulder. She felt a little guilty, but she still intended to allow him to veto
her decisions. “Yes, this is him,” she said, “if you don’t mind me asking, what
do you intend to do with him?”
“Oh,” the woman clicked her tongue, “I’ve seen so many of these lovely
little things, and I just knew that a Parvian would make the most
perfect bit of jewelry. Can’t you picture how beautiful a Parvian necklace
would be? Or maybe even a bracelet... anyway, I can do twenty thousand.”
“Nope!” Tenebris snapped, and walked right around her, continuing down
the neon-lit street. Martin tugged on her hair.
“Did you hear that! That woman wanted to wear me! I’m
not clothing!” He complained into Tenebris’ ear.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered back, “I wouldn’t let that happen to you.
Not for such a shitty deal, at least.”
Martin scoffed in response.
…
The pair arrived at the Cafe. In bold lettering, a red neon sign read
‘Vick’s Tiny Six’ and beneath it, as a subtitle, ‘Parvian Cafe and Bistro’ was
written. They entered through the door.
The interior was a unique sight. It was built of
imitation wood, and the whole place had a very rustic feel, emulating ancient
styles for the purpose of novelty. Inside, six booths lined the walls. The
tables of these booths had see through glass embedded in it, revealing a
chamber. Two of the booths were taken, and in the chamber of both booths a
Parvian could be seen making conversation with the patrons. Above each booth
was a round pot-light, which hung low above the booth and illuminated the area.
At the far end was the kitchen, where baristas were preparing orders.
Tenebris approached the barista, who politely smiled and made eye
contact. Tenebris waited for the barista to ask her for her order. Seeing this,
the barista gestured to her mouth, and pointed down to a panel, with the word
‘order’ displayed on it. The woman seemed to be mute. “One Tedgeroot mocha,
please. And throw in two nutrient packets with it, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Tenebris requested. The woman pointed at Martin inquisitively. “He’ll just
share with me.” The barista nodded, and slid a payment pad towards Tenebris.
She tapped it on her neck, feeling the familiar light shock of the purchase, and
the barista went to prepare their order.
Tenebris sat at the booth closest to the door, placing herself so she
could see the entrance. She let Martin on the table, the imitation wood cool to
the touch. Withdrawing a napkin from a box on the table, she folded it to
provide the Parvian a softer place to sit than the hard surface of the table.
“You like Tedgeroot?” She asked him.
Martin shrugged. “Never had it.”
Tenebris reclined against the chair. “It’s great stuff. A little on the
oily side, but it’s very good. I actually thought all the terraformed planets
had it on them.”
In the glass-protected chamber below them, a Parvian emerged from the
wall. Tenebris watched Marvin do a double take upon seeing another of his kind.
It was a woman, dressed in casual uniform. “H-hi.” He stuttered.
“Hello.” The woman calmly replied.
Tenebris heard a bell behind her. Her mocha was ready. She got up to
retrieve it, leaving Martin with the other Parvian. The beverage was in a
large, clear container with intricate swirling designs painted with gold. The
substance within it had the distinct purple colour and thickness of Tedgeroot,
and was hot to the touch. She brought it back to her booth where the female
Parvian was talking.
“-bought another one of us when the prices were low, in case any of us
needed to be… replaced. ‘Vick’s Tiny Seven’ doesn’t have as good of a ring to
it as ‘Vick’s Tiny Six’ though, so she usually lends him to the barista.” She
shook her head. “Poor Charlie, he deserves better.”
Tenebris was drawn away from the conversation
once again, watching a shifty-looking man walk past her. She saw him steal a
few glances at her booth. Discreetly, she moved around the table to keep an eye
on him.
He was one of the people she had seen before, the type with the blue-tinged
skin and massive pupils that left no eye whites to be seen. He moved in a
strange manner, with slow, deliberate movements shrouded by the large coat he
wore. Tenebris watched him make an order, and lean his back against the wall,
continuing to sneak looks in her direction. He received his order in a small
paper bag, and walked toward the exit, veering close to the booths on Tenebris’
side of the wall. She watched his hand snake out of his coat, reaching towards
Martin.
In a flash, Tenebris shot her hand out, grabbing the man’s wrist. She
ripped her arm back, causing the man to fly forward, loudly crashing his head
against the low pot-light. She stood up, snatching the thick glasses from his
face while he was still surprised. With her modified hand, she gripped the base
of the light and jammed it into his face, using her opposite hand to hold a
fistful of hair, keeping him still.
A searing pain shot up her arm as she activated her mod. It felt like
her entire limb from the shoulder down was on fire, a burning as if a
conflagration had rampaged across her nerves. The pot-light became intensely
bright from the sudden excess of energy, shining so bright that Tenebris
herself had to squint, despite almost none of
the light being directed anywhere near her. She released her grip on the
man, jumping back into her seat at the booth.
The failed thief staggered back, clutching his eyes. “Fuck!” He shouted,
“you bitch! Do you have any idea how expensive retinal implants are?
Dammit!” He blindly stumbled out of the cafe, clutching his face and holding
out his hand in front of him.
The entire room was staring at her now,
completely silent. She sat back down. Martin was completely dumbfounded, along
with the Parvian in the table’s chamber. Tenebris slouched into her seat,
desperate to get the attention off her.
After a few moments, people slowly returned to their normal murmurings,
and sound returned to the cafe. Tenebris let out a deep sigh. Her booth was
approached by one of the baristas. She opened her mouth to speak, but Tenebris
held up her hand, gesturing for her to stop. “I know. We’ll leave. Can I get a
disposable cup?” The barista nodded quickly, and made her way back to the
kitchen. “Sorry.” Tenebris muttered down to Martin.
“No, no, it’s, uhh, it’s alright. Thanks.”
“Man, the nerve you have to have to just steal someone else’s
property from right under them.” Tenebris remarked frustratedly.
Martin laughed, confusing Tenebris until she realized the hypocrisy of
what she had just said. “Yeah, pretty dickish, isn’t it?” He mocked. Tenebris’
face became warm with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to try and say
something witty, but ended up being interrupted by the barista coming back with
her cup. Silently, she shut her mouth, and poured her cup into the new
disposable one, feeling its heat soak into her hand. The sensation helped to
relax the aching muscles in her modded arm. She silently set her open palm on
the table, allowing Martin to climb atop it.
Exiting the building, she saw the man she had blinded continuing down
the street. He would probably be fine - retinal repair was not too expensive in
the modern age, despite his prior complaints. Still, she decided walking the
opposite direction would be better to avoid another conflict. She finished her
Tedgeroot mocha, the artificial plant invigorating her, and the nutrient
supplements keeping her from going hungry. With difficulty, she even shared a
bit of it with Martin along the way.
On her way to the address from the purchase of the ship, she stopped by
a pharmacy for some nerve growth stimulants, and some high energy supplements
for Martin, to prevent him from accidentally metabolizing himself to death. Her
arm was aching unusually bad, and her fingertips were losing sensation. She
would likely need to get her arm mod replaced soon, or at least removed, since
it was obviously causing complications.
Continuing on her way, she was approached by one more potential buyer.
Another woman, this time someone who wore very baggy clothes, and had her hair
messily tied up. Tiny studs of metal wrapped around her forehead like a crown,
embedded in her skin. Her eyes were wide, constantly skittering and refocusing,
in a constant dilated state. This woman was an ag-simmer. Tenebris recognized
the type, having run a few odd-jobs for them in her lifetime.
Ag-simming was an interesting profession. It required an insane amount
of intelligence and mind-bogglingly fast reaction time. It was a complex facet
of a lot of stations, but it boils down to a symbiotic relationship between the
simmer and the station. The station compiles data, and transmits it to the
simmer’s prefrontal cortex in the form of a game-like experience, typically
within a generated four-dimensional space. The simmer interacts with the data,
whereby playing the ‘game’ they are inadvertently optimizing the systems of the
station, sorting data, and providing calculated solutions that only an
artificial intelligence would struggle to produce, or at least be too costly to
operate. This exchange shoots up the brain of the ag-simmer with an
unparalleled high of rapid problem solving, and a constant flow of
adrenaline.
The ag-simmer’s lurid experience of the simulation, and the fact that
their livelihood was built upon it, lead them to find normal life hopelessly
dull. They often neglected activities, and only leave the sim to perform the
most basic of tasks. Tenebris made a staggering amount of money by simply
running supplies to these people - they had little else to put their wealth
into, so they paid handsomely. She grinned. If Martin would allow it, this
would be an easy ticket to the good life.
“Five-hundred K. Housecleaning job. Minor entertainment use. Limited
assistance.” The woman spoke rapidly, so fast that Tenebris struggled to keep
up. Her voice had a slightly raspy quality to it, but her tone was intensely
robotic. The woman’s eyes darted all over, sometimes looking Tenebris in the
eyes, sometimes at Martin, and sometimes simply being caught by random street
signs.
The Parvian was clearly distraught. Tenebris would be willing to bet
that he had no knowledge of ag-simmers. She held up a hand. “If you’ll excuse
me, I need to talk to my… business partner here for a moment.” She stepped
around a corner, and held the Parvian to her face.
“That lady gives me the creeps...” Martin griped.
“Please! Five-hundred K! It won’t be that bad.”
“I don’t know, I have a really bad feeling about this. Shit, just look
at her eyes. Doesn’t she make you uncomfortable?”
“It’s just housecleaning! You’ll barely have to do anything!”
“I’m sorry! I just don’t feel good about this one. Can’t we at least try
Edo?”
Tenebris rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. You’re so fucking lucky I made you
that deal.”
“Thank you.”
Tenebris returned to the ag-simmer. She adopted a taller posture, and
tried to bring up her best businesslike tone, saying to the woman, “we have
decided that we will not be accepting your offer at this time. Thank you.”
The woman furrowed her brow. “Time is currency. Time wasted is currency
wasted.” Her finger twitched, before she spun on her heel and began walking
back the way she came.
Tenebris slumped her shoulders. Beside her, she
heard Martin exhale deeply in relief.
…
This was the address. Gilfoy Military Surplus Goods. The pair was
greeted by a grey-haired man, who eagerly shook Tenebris’ hand.
He spun a fuzzy proton hologram, which sat in a touch-sensitive glass
cylinder. It displayed the ship Tenebris had purchased; simple, but elegant
because of it. Of course, proper aesthetics would have made such a ship much
more expensive than it was.
“Got a bonch of these babies from some pirate crew that got woiped by a
gamma ray burst, ye.” The man rasped, “had a massive ‘aul of stolen
military goods. Scav laws let us ‘ave em, as long as we gave ‘em back the
warheads. Repurposed the buggers into personal ships cheap as dirt, I’m ‘appy
to say.”
Martin squirmed anxiously in Tenebris’ pants’ pocket, where she had put
him, since she tired of holding him and was afraid that someone would try to
snatch him like in the cafe. Evidently, he was concerned by the prospect of
flying inside of a decommissioned planet-destroying missile. She wasn’t. At the
end of the day, the only fundamental difference between a missile and a cargo
ship was what was inside it.
The man held out a data pad, similar to one of the payment devices. “If
you don’t ’ave any questions, I’ll take yer codes and you can nab yer new
ship.”
Wordlessly, Tenebris used the payment pad, once more holding it up to
the base of her skull. A slight tingle resonated within her cranium, before she
handed it back.
“Give it a second to confirm the payment and then it’s yers.” He placed
the pad on a table behind him. ‘Ey, you ‘eard about this naming thing?
Apparently it’s a bit of a superstition ‘round ‘ere that if yer business dun’t
start with the same letter as yer name, you’re, eh, ‘doomed to fail’. Funny thing is, ye, it ends up being a bit
of a self-fulfilling prophesy, ‘cus nobody wants to work at a business that’s
destined to fail, which, get this, causes
them to fail! Funny, innit?”
“D fifteen” a feminine voice emanated from a speaker above the hologram
pillar, reading a code which flashed in stark red lettering.
“Down the ‘allway, ye. Fourth elevator. Level fifteen. Ya don’t talk
much, do ya?”
Tenebris shrugged. “Not much to talk about.” With that, she spun on her
heel and made her way down the hallway.
The elevator was seemingly waiting for them, the bulkhead marked with a
massive unmissable capital D. It opened upon her approach, likely by
identifying her neural chip’s unique signal, and associating it with her
purchase. Proving her theory, the 15 button on the touchpad was brightly lit,
with a pulsing blue, while the others remained dim, emanating a low yellow.
When she pressed it, the blue light disappeared.
In response, the door behind her slid shut, interlocking mechanisms
sliding into place, pneumatic hisses reverberating along the air. The elevator
smoothly accelerated, a pit forming in Tenebris’ stomach from the sudden
change.
Just as before, the rotational gravity grew less intense the higher they
went closer to the centre. When the elevator began to decelerate, she had to
brace her hands against the ceiling to avoid getting thrown into it. Martin
seemed to get lifted up out of her pocket slightly from the upward force.
The elevator slid to a halt, a display to the side of the bulkhead
reading ‘level 15’ along with various readings, such as pressure and
temperature on the catwalk. The bulkhead opened, the sound of sliding metal and
hissing pneumatics once more filling the chamber.
This region still retained about half the gravity of the normal station,
so Tenebris was able to stand. The catwalk in front of her was fully
transparent, allowing an excellent view of the area around them. They were much
further into the station than they were before, and were flanked in every
conceivable direction by layers upon layers of ship and cargo containers, so
many that either end of the station was completely unseeable.
The ship before Tenebris was larger than she had expected. A towering
cylinder, around twenty metres in height and fully coloured jet black. It
seemed oddly lopsided, with a segment jutting out the side at a right angle up
against the capsule. The catwalk extended slightly more than halfway up the
total height of the repurposed missile, being the capsule. The door was already
open, waiting for them.
Tenebris entered the capsule, the bulkhead sliding shut behind her.
The first thing she noticed was the size. It was incredibly small: if she
spread her arms, she would probably be able to reach across the entire
diameter. The interior was basic, being made up of nothing but a small control
setup that was set into the floor, and a soft spot on the opposite wall. On
this soft spot, hung several metal attachments. If she were to lie against the
surface of the wall, the attachments would roughly align with her wrists,
torso, head, and ankles.
She withdrew Martin from her pocket, allowing him to slowly float down
to the ground from the lower artificial gravity. His fall appeared to be
slightly diagonal, a natural side-effect of being aboard a rotating station,
commonly referred to as ‘coriolis forces’. She stuffed her backpack into a
storage locker embedded in the floor before interacting with the control setup.
The controls were incredibly simple, having very
few options for configuration of any sort. She tapped together a flight to
Edo.
Eighty-seven thousand light hours to their destination. She configured
her burn relative to the distant system, with forty-thousand hours of a
seventeen gee burn, followed by an idle period of one-hundred thousand hours.
After this, another forty-thousand hours of seventeen gee deceleration. At this
point the pair will be reawakened from cryosleep, and be bright and awake for
their arrival at the distant system.
The system took in all the data, and recalculated it to apply to their
local frame of reference, accounting for all of the terribly annoying effects
of relativity. It supplemented the telemetry with a route to take them away
from the station, within acceptable distances to initiate the burn.
A warning appeared on the screen. Tenebris read it aloud for her Parvian
companion. “Warning, acceleration fluid may induce substance intoxication as a
side-effect of present compounds. Restraints must be applied prior to travel.”
She glanced over at the metal attachments. She continued reading. “Heh, look at
this - ‘any wearable items such as clothes or jewelry must be removed
prior to flight, in order to prevent complications.’ Lucky you, you pervy
Parvian.”
Martin rolled his eyes. Tenebris snickered. “I didn’t get the chance to
ask what ‘the scramble’ was to that woman.” Martin stated, evidently trying to
switch the topic.
“Good.” Tenebris said, drawing her shirt over her head, the Martian
insignia deforming from the movement. “Some things are better left unknown with
these places, especially if you have to dig for them. Now,” Tenebris
made a sweeping gesture towards the Parvian, “lose the clothes. For your
safety.”
The pair removed their garments, with Tenebris finding the tight
leggings particularly difficult to remove. She stole a few glances at Martin
while he wasn’t looking. It was silly to be sneaky about it, since they
wouldn’t be able to not look at each other when they were entering
cryo, but she found a simple thrill in doing something she knew was wrong. When
she was finished, she balled up her clothes and tucked them under her arm,
before squatting above the miniscule Parvian, who had his back turned towards
her. Her shadow crept over his nude form while he kicked off his boxers.
He must have noticed her shadow, since he soon turned aroun. As a
knee-jerk reaction to Tenebris looming above him, he jumped, letting out a
tinny, brief shriek. He clutched his chest, calming down from the scare.
Tenebris took a bit to absorb the moment. It was an incredible feeling,
to tower above someone like this, soaking in Martin’s adorable responses. Her
squatting posture had her splaying her legs, which in turn, parted her labia
slightly. Martin was staring up at her spread sex as if it were a monster. She
could only imagine what was coursing through the Parvians head at that moment.
Was he afraid? Likely. Taken aback by the glorious sight? Unlikely, but she
could still entertain the possibility if she was willing to flatter
herself.
The moment having been sufficiently absorbed, Tenebris broke the
silence. “Eyes are up here, buddy.” She extended a hand towards Martin.
“Clothes.”
Coming back to his senses, Martin came to attention and scooped up his
clothes, placing them in her palm.
Tenebris smirked. She shoved both their clothes into the open locker
where she had put her backpack. Shutting it afterward proved difficult, as due
to the lessened gravity, she couldn’t leverage her weight against the locker.
With a good shove, it clicked shut.
Behind her, Martin cleared his throat. Without noticing, she had bent
herself over, directly in front of him, and completely flaunted her privates a
second time. She dipped her head, dark hair flowing to the ground like water in
slow motion. Across her body, between her legs, she saw Martin, craning his
neck up at her intimate areas.
“Uh…” he clicked his tongue, “you know anything about Edo?”
Tenebris pushed herself up so she was sitting on her knees. “Let’s see.
Biologicals industry capital of the known universe, so I’d expect some weird
shit, at the very least.” She said, running her fingers through her hair. “You
never know, though,” she continued, “maybe you’ll see something you like. Is
that acceptable?”
“I guess.” Martin shrugged.
“Excellent!” She clapped her hands together. “Now let’s get this shit
going.” She arched her back until she was upside-down, hair draping down to the
floor, and with a stretched arm, tapped a button reading ‘Begin lift off
sequence’ in bold lettering.
The door shut and tightened. Tenebris scooped up Martin, and went to the
wall equipped with the metal restraints, which now had red flashing lights on
them. As she put her limbs near them, they snapped shut, the light switching to
a calming green. The restraints, upon connecting, drew out from the walls. A
steel wire extended the range of movement, allowing Tenebris to move about
freely until she was put to sleep. The cabin began to fill with a thin pink
liquid, the sudden warmth on her bare feet surprising her. An external camera
informed her that the bulging area on the side of the ship was contracting at
the same rate the cabin was filling with the liquid, leading her to the
conclusion that the extrusion was temporary containment for the incompressible
liquid.
Martin was squirming up a storm in her hand. “Calm down, man,” she
attempted to console him, “it’s breathing fluid. You can breathe it… I think.
The ship is supposed to do this.”
The ship unclamped from the station, beginning
the station-leaving burn, acceleration causing a pit to form in Tenebris’
stomach. The fluid was up to her knees now. A vacuuming noise could be heard,
sucking the air out to make space for the acceleration fluid. It crawled up to
her waist, then her chest, and climbed over her head, encasing her in the warm
fluid. She let the air out her lungs, bubbles of atmosphere slowly floating to
the top. The liquid invaded her chest, infiltrating her body. The sickening
sense of wrongness that comes with inhaling a liquid pervaded her senses, but
something else also arose.
It was an almost indescribable feeling radiating from her lungs. It felt
like both numbness and hypersensitivity simultaneously. She could barely sense
Martin in her hand, but at the same time, she could almost feel his rapid
heartbeat caress her skin.
The cabin filled with lurid purple swirls and rays of golden light
coming from impossible directions. The world around her became a blur, but also
shone with incredible definition.
Breathe in, breathe out. The liquid was heavy, requiring a lot of
strength to force it out, and to draw it in. But she could definitely breathe
it, as weird a sensation as it may have been. Her mind was infiltrated by
a sudden thought, a whisper from within. Something that asked the question
‘wouldn’t it be nice if…’ and before her conscious mind could produce a proper
answer, she gasped from a heavenly squirming against her sex.
She rubbed Martin up and down against her slit, desperately seeking
pleasure. Biting her lip, she sped up her pace, noting every bump and texture
of his tiny form against her sensitive bits. It
felt good, unnaturally so. At the same time, however, it was also not
enough. It was almost a battle, between her loins sending incredible amounts of
pleasure, and her pleasure centres continuing to demand more.
It was only logical then, that the next step was deeper. Desperate for
satisfaction, she pushed the wriggling man into herself. Playing with her clit,
her slender fingers pushed the radiating blissful sensation within. His
movements were euphoric, her insides contorting to his form.
Her eyes shut, focusing on the electric sensations from the Parvian’s
every move. He slid about inside her, pressing into her walls. Sometimes a leg,
sometimes an arm, always bliss. One particular movement struck her just right,
sending her over the edge into powerful waves of orgasm, spasming and rippling
across her nervous system. She heaved and gasped in the throes of pleasure,
sucking in lungfuls of liquid.
It was good. In her post-orgasmic haze, she lacked the ability to
produce a better word. A sense of utter satisfaction resonated within her. She
was drawn against the wall, held tight in a mechanical embrace. The comfortable
surface beckoned her with the prospect of rest, making her eyes heavy and her
swirling thoughts slow.
Opening her eyes for a brief moment, with blurry vision she read a
message from the display on the floor. ‘Cryogenic processes initiated. Freezing
in 16 seconds…” the seconds continued to count down, but the call of rest had
her asleep before it could hit ten.